


people headin' out for the sun

by ectotherm



Category: The Less Than Epic Adventures of TJ and Amal
Genre: Alternate Universe - Zombies, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-19
Updated: 2015-12-19
Packaged: 2018-05-07 15:21:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5461307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ectotherm/pseuds/ectotherm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Climate change. Zombies. To move in with your boyfriend or not. Big, important, life-changing shit.</i>
</p><p>TJ and Amal make the trip back to Berkeley.</p>
            </blockquote>





	people headin' out for the sun

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Brigdh](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Brigdh/gifts).



> Brigdh, I sincerely hope you have the happiest Yuletide! 
> 
> Many thanks to A for the beta! Title is from Neil Young's 'Coastline'.

*

 

“It’s all bullshit anyway,” TJ says around a mouthful of crinkle-cut chips. “I thought vampires were supposed to—” His eyes roll back, and he lets his tongue loll on the edge of his bottom lip. “—you know. In sunlight. Not zombies.”

Amal raises an eyebrow, swinging his eyes back to the highway before distraction runs them right off it and into the rubbish-strewn scrub.

“Okay, A: I’m not complaining that we get a clear run during the day, and B: how the hell have you still never read Harry Potter but know a bunch of vampire trivia?”

TJ just shrugs, then holds out a chip. Amal rolls his eyes and takes it.

“It’s the heat,” Amal explains, sounding more like a doctor failing to deliver bad news gently than TJ’s boyfriend. “During the day. They can’t handle it. And they’re not zombies. They’re still alive.”

“Some kind of life,” TJ says, darkly. “S’bullshit.” The salt on his hands sparkles a little in the sunlight streaming through the open window.

The road hums under their tires. TJ’s tattoo gun jumps around on the backseat. It’s not the best defense but it’ll do in a pinch.

 

*

 

Once people get infected, the adrenaline burns them up with fever and a single mind for destruction. Highly contagious. No cure. The CDC advises staying indoors while the sun’s down, and a little either side of sunset and sunrise just to be on the safe side.

Amal always hated getting up early anyway.

He slept on his stomach, so the pillow TJ throws hits him square in the back of the head. He’s about to issue a complaint but ends up mumbling something incoherent instead when TJ’s beard tickles his neck.

“I have a boyfriend, you know,” he says, then, trying for a joke.

TJ laughs, pressing a kiss to the nape of Amal’s neck. “Is he bangin’?”

Amal rolls over, catapulting TJ across the bed in the process.

“Not bad,” he says, pulling TJ in for a kiss by the collar of his hawaiian shirt and knocking his glasses askew.

 

*

 

“Aren’t you worried about running into people back in Berkeley?” Amal asks as he gets in the passenger side.

“Everyone’s worried about runnin’ into people these days,” TJ replies, nonchalant as he pushes the seat back to accommodate his long legs. “Besides, nobody’s gonna recognize me with the new ‘do anyway.”

He’s probably half right, Amal thinks. Even with a recently shaved head, TJ’s still recognizable. The floral shirt, shorts that were probably made for a sunny weekend hiking through Yosemite but found in a Goodwill bin somewhere, and plain old tall stature make him kind of distinctive.

Amal’s pretty sure he can take on anyone who might want to cause them trouble. Hell, even TJ can throw a pretty decent punch. Either way, he owes Kavita, and they’d probably get away if they said they were infected and ran like hell.

“Which one’s the clutch again?”

 

*

 

“So, the decision to drive 3000 miles to pick up Kavita from Berkeley has nothing to do with the whole movin’ in together shindig, huh?”

“What? I—no.”

“You’re all, ‘Oh no! A decision! Let’s drive across the country!’”

Amal doesn’t say anything. TJ’s been intermittently picking at a thread on his shorts for the last hour or so, so Amal figures this has been brewing for a while.

“Naw, come on dude, I’m not complaining; it’s nice to get around, even if a week’s worth of romantic sunsets are totally out of the equation.”

TJ winds the window down, pulls out a cigarette, waving a hand through the plume of smoke.

“Anyway, Amal, man. I gotta share some wisdom with you.” He takes a long drag. “Don’t take the guy you’ve left hanging on a week-long, cross-country zombie sightseeing tour.”

“Teej, for the last time, they’re not zombi—I’m not leaving you hanging, there’s just a lot of stuff to work out . . . ”

TJ laughs. “Okay, whatever man. I’m just saying you get an ‘F’ on your avoidance midterm. Ain’t no rush. I’m not goin’ anywhere.”

“You’re going to Berkeley,” Amal points out. He’s blushing a little; can feel the bloom of heat across his cheeks.

“Smart guy, huh? At this speed, we might even get there by September.”

Amal laughs. “You wanna drive?”

TJ snorts and takes a final drag, throwing the still-lit butt of the cigarette onto the scorching asphalt behind them.

“Just saying; drive faster or it’ll take months, and I don’t gotta be a doctor to tell you winter is gonna be a shitshow.”

It’s a joke, but the thought of shorter days is quieting.

Amal drives.

 

*

 

They stop in Salt Lake City. It’s hot. People walk along the street cautiously these days, and although everything looks almost the same on the inside, most buildings have a smattering of damage, not to mention added security measures.

Way off in the distance, the Wasatch Range looms, a jagged cascade of blue, green and gold. Out of the cities, things look mostly the same, if a little drier from the increasing heat.

Climate change. Not-actually-zombies. To move in with your boyfriend or not. Big, important life-changing shit. TJ’s walking back towards Amal with a shit-eating grin on his face, so Amal guesses he managed to find the absolute worst motel in the whole city.

Amal puts away his troubling thoughts when they’re close enough for him to hook his fingers through TJ’s belt loops.

Decisions can wait. He’s got big plans for whatever shithole TJ picked out while he was on the phone with Kavita.

TJ’s smile suggests he’s got big plans too.

 

*

 

“Okay.”

TJ looks across at him curiously, his chest still heaving a little, sweat dusting his shoulders. “Say again.”

“Okay,” Amal repeats.

“I get reviews now? ‘TJ Freeman: Okay in the Sack.’” TJ frowns, mock-hurt. “Just when, exactly, was the last time you got laid in such a carefree manner, let alone in such a hospitable environment?” As if on cue, the fluorescent light above the bed flickers, either menacing or pathetic, and Amal laughs, feeling unguarded and content.

“Okay; I’ll move in with you, you asshole.”

TJ sits up, looking tentatively delighted. “You—wait.” He narrows his eyes, leaning in close. “This isn’t one of those post-orgasm decisions you’re going to regret as soon as you stop riding the dick high?”

“The dick high?” Amal smirks.

“It’s a well documented phenomenon.”

“I want to move in.”

TJ leans across Amal’s chest and kisses him, a rumble of laughter building deep in his chest.

“You had to wait ‘til fuckin’ Utah to tell me this?” He moves so he’s straddling Amal’s hips, grinning. “Can we get a cat?”

“Don’t push it.”

“What about a dog? A big old guard dog; good for defence.”

“Jeez, Teej, can we just go to the fucking IHOP and celebrate already before the zombies come out of hibernation?”

TJ smirks, planting a kiss on Amal’s forehead. “They’re not zombies.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.”


End file.
